


Anniversary

by devante9901



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Anniversary, Bittersweet, Gay Bashing, Injury Recovery, M/M, Poignant, Prom, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-27
Updated: 2013-11-27
Packaged: 2018-01-02 20:13:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1061131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devante9901/pseuds/devante9901
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the one year anniversary of the prom, and Brian makes it a night Justin will remember.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anniversary

**Author's Note:**

> [Set end of Season 3, one year after the prom/bashing fiasco. Music "Save the Last Dance for me" is by The Drifters. Or at least the version I like is performed by The Drifters. I could look it up but I'm lazy. Rated R, I guess, for language. Standard disclaimer: I don't own Brian or Justin or Queer as Folk, Cowlip does.]
> 
> Find original works by SM Johnson at http://smjbookteasers.blogspot.com

Anniversary  
by SM Johnson

Brian walks into the diner at 7:30 in the morning, the day after his 31st birthday. He stops for a moment near the door and scans the room. Justin is sitting in a booth with Ethan, his back to the door, apparently on a break. Brian sees defeat in the hunch of the boy's shoulders. This fuckin' day. 

He wonders if Ethan has any idea of the significance of this day. Justin knows, for certain. After all, it's all about him, everything he's had to learn this past year, everything he's lost. Brian thinks about just walking out, letting Ethan deal with the fallout, if there's to be one. It would be so much easier. But he walks over to the booth anyway, rests his hands gently on Justin's shoulders and leans down to murmur in his ear, "Doing okay?"

Justin looks up and his eyes are haunted, dark rims around them like he hasn't slept for, well… a year. He gives Brian a barely perceptible nod.

Ethan is, as always, an arrogant little prick. "The great Mr. Kinney," he says. "Well, well. To what do we owe this little pleasure?"

Brian ignores him and speaks directly to Justin, "I want you with me tonight. No one else, just me and you."

Justin doesn't argue, just nods. He must feel it, too, this need to be together. Hell, he probably feels it more.

Brian smiles tightly. "I'll pick you up at 6." 

*

He waits outside Ethan's slum at 6:00, and Justin doesn't disappoint. He comes to the Jeep hunched into his jacket, hands hiding in the pockets. He gets in and says, "Fucking Ethan."

"Trouble in paradise?" Brian asks.

"No. He's just a paranoid little fuck. Makes me wonder what he's been up to, that he goes into full scream after me as I'm going out the door. He actually told me not to fuck you. Like he needs to worry about it."

"Maybe he does," Brian answers, cards a hand through Justin's hair. "It's getting long," he says, for no reason at all. "Did you tell him anything?"

"Fuck no. This has nothing to do with him, and I don't want to talk about it, anyway. Do you?"

"Nope," Brian agrees, and drives away. 

He takes Justin to his loft. 

"Here?" Justin asks, as they pull up in front of Brian's building.

"Just for a few minutes. I have something for you."

In the elevator, it's all Brian can do not to wrap Justin in his arms and tell him that he will protect him always. That he will protect him from every cruelty, every pain, from life itself. Willpower wins out; he keeps his hands to himself and his mouth shut.

When they get inside Brian leads Justin up the stairs into the bedroom.

"Brian," Justin protests, "this isn't a good idea."

"Trust me. Do you trust me?"

"Yes. With my life." The dark rings around his eyes make them impossibly blue. Again there's a part of Brian that wants to push Justin down on the duvet, wrap his arms around his boy, and hold him tight, safe, all night. But that's not in his master plan. Instead he opens the doors to the closet. Pulls out a plastic garment bag.  
"Put this on."

Justin pulls at the plastic, sees immediately that it is a classic black and white tuxedo. He closes his eyes for a full minute, then opens them, and Brian can see that he is rattled, maybe even genuinely terrified. "Brian, I can't... I..."

Brian ruffles Justin's beautiful blond hair, lets his left hand rest gently on the right side of Justin's head. "Trust me. Put it on."

He turns to the closet himself and pulls out a black linen shirt, a black suit.

They dress in silence.

Brian can feel that Justin is building to say something, that the kid is aching and tired, so tired, and he pictures them laying in bed together, spooned, comfortable. _Maybe later,_ he thinks, _after I've done all I can do to get him through this night._

"Come on," Brian says, when they are both dressed, and pulls Justin toward the door. Just before stepping out he remembers something, something important. "Wait here." He goes back to the bedroom and reaches into the closet and pulls down a small flat cardboard box. He opens it and looks at what is inside for a very long moment.

"Brian," Justin calls from the foyer. "Brian, what are you doing?"

Brian shrugs and pulls the silk scarf out of the box. He wraps it around his neck and tucks the ends into his jacket. It's not quite brilliant white anymore, not even the drycleaner could get the weeks-old blood stains to come completely out. But it would do. Significant for the two of them, not shockingly noticeable to anyone else. He walks slowly to Justin, waiting at the door, and offers him an arm, "Ready?"

"God, I hope you're not taking me to a prom. That would be too fucking weird."

"That would be stupid. I didn't take you last time. You took Daphne."

He drove downtown instead of to Liberty Avenue, to a small bar called simply "Marvin's." He parked the Jeep and got out. Justin stayed in.

"What is this? What are we doing here?"

"It's a geezer's club," Brian said, and walked around to Justin's side of the Jeep, opening the door. "A place where old gay guys hang out. I thought we'd go in for a dance."

Justin's eyes, full of pain, flash up at him. "What kind of dance?"

"One for old time's sake. Come on."

*

Ethan was so pissed at Justin he didn't know what to do. Justin had barely spoken to him in two days, and he went gallivanting off mysteriously with Brian, unwilling to offer any explanation. And it's not like Ethan didn't ask. He did, repeatedly. And Justin just kept saying, "Ethan, it's none of your business. Don't worry about it. I'm not going to cheat on you with him. I wouldn't do that. It's just... an anniversary of something, and tonight, well, I need... Brian and I need each other, just for a little while."

So here he was at Woody's, wondering what the fuck is going on with Justin, why he's been sleeping at Daphne's every night for a week, and where he went with Brian tonight. A part of him hopes to find them here, dancing, kissing, so he'll know his anger is justified. But once he goes in, a quick scan of the place tells him that Brian and Justin are not here. Justin's friends are, though, Emmett, and Ted, and Ethan thinks that maybe they can tell him what's going on. 

Emmett looks up just as Ethan reaches speaking range. "Ethan! Look, Teddy, it's Justin's boyfriend, Ethan. Where's Justin?" Ethan watches Emmett's face suddenly change, good cheer receding and his voice dropping both in pitch and volume. "Is the boy all right?"

"I don't know," Ethan answered. "He went off with Brian."

"That figures," Ted said under his breath. "Any missing trick is most likely to be with Brian."

"Teddy!" Emmett says, and his voice is almost sharp. "It's, you know," he paused, waiting for Ted to get it. Ted didn't. "The anniversary."

"Oh. I forgot," Ted said. "Waitress, can we get another round?"

And then Michael is suddenly at Ethan's elbow, yelling at him. "Ethan, where's Justin? You didn't leave him alone, did you? Jesus, I hope you're not stupid enough to leave him alone tonight."

Ethan shook his head.

"Good."

Ethan was amazed at how effectively Michael could condemn a person with just that one word. "I don't get it," he said. "What are Justin and Brian celebrating, their first fuck?"

Michael snorts. "Celebrating? Not hardly." And then he seems to realize something because Ethan can see the light dawning. "You mean you don't know? What today is?"

Ethan shook his head. "Not a fucking clue."

Michael studied him. "Ethan, has Justin ever had a nightmare since he moved in with you?"

"No. Well, not that I've noticed. Nothing that ever woke me up, anyway."

Ted offered a comment. "Don't you know musicians sleep deeper than the dead?"

"Hmph," was all Michael said.

"Well, is somebody going to tell me about this," Ethan mocked Emmett's hushed tone of voice, _"anniversary?"_

"One year since Justin got bashed in the head with a baseball bat." This delivered in Ted's matter of fact voice. "One year since Justin's prom."

"What?" Ethan asked, his heart hammering. This was all news to him."Baseball bat? Prom?"

"Oh, honey, Justin never told you?" Emmett said. "Well, maybe he thinks he's over it, getting on with his life. I don't think he talks about it. But last year, a year ago today, to be exact, Justin took his friend Daphne to their senior prom. Brian showed up to claim Justin on the dance floor, and some homophobic football player took offense and then took a bat to Justin's head. It was a pretty big deal. The boy was in a coma for weeks. Brian was wrecked."

"Jesus," Ethan said, his throat constricting. "Justin never told me. Never told me any of it."

"Well, haven't you ever watched him draw?" Michael asked. "See his hand shake until he loses control?"

"Sure," Ethan answers, annoyed. "And I asked him about it, too. He said he got hurt a long time ago. He said he doesn't like to talk about it."

"He doesn't remember much about it," Emmett said. "He lost a chunk of his memory, poor boy, doesn't even remember the prom, and it was the best night of his life, to hear Daphne tell it. We all like to think of him as this innocent, naive boy, but that night was the last of his boyhood. He's never been quite the same, has he, boys?"  
Ted and Michael shook their heads. "And neither has Brian," Michael said. "It's like something that was almost good in him died that night. The way he acted at the hospital, I thought he'd never let Justin out of his sight again. Shows how much I know. He actually started pushing Boy Wonder further and further away from then on. But still, it's probably good that they're together tonight, rather than alone." Michael looked at Ethan. "Sorry, but it's true."

"I guess," Ethan answered. "Why didn't Brian save him?"

He actually felt Michael bristle, spines raising like an offended porcupine. "He did! Brian saved Justin's life. Jesus, what do you think, he just stood there and let it happen? He couldn't stop it. It happened too fast."

"The fall of Brian Kinney," Ethan said with a snort. "Finally something happens that's beyond his control."

"That's not even close to funny," Michael said. "You don't know Brian, and you didn't see him then. He was a mess. Drinking, getting high, fucking everything that moved . . ."

"Sounds exactly like the Brian Kinney I know." Ethan answered. "Anyway, thanks for telling me what's going on. I don't know why Justin didn't tell me. I would have been there for him tonight. Maybe even distracted him."

He watched a strange, serious look pass between Michael, Emmett, and Ted. 

*

Brian walks Justin past the wood-topped bar to a sunken dance floor at the back. Dance music was playing, but no one was dancing. There's a total of four customers in the bar, one bartender. And apparently a DJ. Brian leaves Justin standing by a table and mounts two steps to speak to a guy in the DJ's booth. Justin stands there, uncomfortable, hands hidden inside his tuxedo sleeves. 

The lights soften, turn blue, and suddenly there's silence. And then Brian is there, leading Justin down the steps to the tiled floor. The beat comes up first, and then the music, old-fashioned and corny.

_You can dance every dance with the guy who gives you the eye  
Let him hold you tight_

Brian takes Justin's left hand in his right, puts his left hand to Justin's waist. Starts dancing slowly, steps disjointed. Justin is stiff, almost terrified. Brian whispers, "Relax."

_You can smile, every smile for the man who held your hand  
Beneath the pale moonlight_

Brian grins at Justin, squeezes his hand, and murmurs into his ear. "Isn't this ridiculously romantic?"

_But don't forget who's taking you home, and in whose arms you're gonna be  
So darling, save the last dance for me_

Justin finally relaxes into Brian's arms and smiles, a real smile, and lets Brian lead the dance. "Yes," he says, "it is. Thank you."

_Oh, I know, that the music's fine like sparkling wine.  
Go and have your fun_

The wall with the DJ's booth is tiled with mirrors. Justin watches himself and Brian dancing, thinking, God we look hot together. Brian loosens the stained scarf from his neck, pulls it off with a sexy slide through his fingers, and loops it around Justin's neck.

_Laugh and sing, but while we're apart_  
 _Don't give your heart to anyone_  
 _But don't forget who's taking you home, and in whose arms you're gonna be_  
 _So darling, save the last dance for me_

On one turn of the floor Brian and Justin's eyes meet in the mirror, watching themselves, watching each other. Justin laughs out loud, head back, then takes the scarf from his neck and captures Brian with it. This time it's Brian who lets out the laugh, accepting that he has been caught. Justin leans in for a kiss and Brian obliges, right hand burying itself in Justin's blond locks, left still holding Justin around the waist. The lights and the music swim around them, ultimately always just the two of them, two beautiful boys, reliving the past . . . 

*

_Baby don't you know I love you so_  
 _Can't you feel it when we touch?_  
 _I will never, never let you go_  
 _I love you oh, so much_

"This took a lot of planning," Justin said. "A tuxedo, a quiet place, a particular song. Why are you doing this for me?" They weren't even dancing anymore, just swaying in each other's arms, and it felt like home, like everything the good life should be.

Brian answered only, "It was a big deal."

Justin snorted at him. "Yeah, I bet. Tell me why."

Brian tried to shrug off the question. Justin bunched Brian's sleeves at the upper arms and gave him a little shake. "Tell me."

"I just…" Brian paused. "You know I wish like hell I could forget. But I know you wish more than anything that you could remember. I just wanted you to see us, to see what it was like for us before all the shit."

"Mmm," Justin murmured into Brian's neck. "I wonder where we'd be now if it never happened?"

"Well, you certainly wouldn't be fucking Ethan."

_You can dance every dance, go and carry on until the night is gone_  
 _And it's time to go_  
 _If he asks if you're all alone, can he take you home_  
 _You must tell him no_  
 _'Cause don't forget who's taking you home, and in whose arms you're gonna be_  
 _So darling, save the last dance for me_

_'Cause don't forget who's taking you home and in whose arms you're gonna be_  
 _So darling, save the last dance for me_  
 _Save the last dance for me_  
 _Save the last dance for me_  
 _Save the last dance for me_  
 _Save the last dance for me_

[End]


End file.
